At a conference with some students I’m advising,

the day’s last session ending, I’m taking

a late-evening walk across the campus

that we’re visiting, strolling around its

little pond and central buildings,

having been stuck inside all day

and feeling just a little claustrophobic.

The evening’s cool and pleasant

after a day unseasonably warm,

and the sprinklers have come on,

misting the air and wetting the sidewalks,

and suddenly I’m transported backward

thirty years in time to my own alma mater,

pacing the quadrangle late at night

when I’m lonely and can’t sleep,

or stumbling home, with or without my mates,

after a night out at one of the bars

along the strip. The memory has come

to me unexpected, and I’m not sure

if it’s a happy one or sad.


Copyright 2013

T. Allen Culpepper



2 thoughts on “Sprinklers

    • It’s my favorite time of night too. Yes, I have some good memories (some probably the result of revisionist nostalgia ) and I do miss those days once in a while, but I don’t think I would want to go back. Getting to this point was too hard!

      Sent from my iPhone


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